


if you could

by MMonster



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Crossover, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I'm Not Ashamed, Other, i guess, not romantic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: The bed suddenly moves. Emilia turns her head, finding another face. There's a person beside her. Someone with long, pale-white hair, eyes that blink open, sleepy, the weirdest, most alien shade to them. Purple. Emilia stares, frozen in place.Daenerys blinks back, before it registers to her as well that there's a stranger in her bed.
Relationships: Emilia Clarke & Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	if you could

'Fuck'. Is Emilia's first thought when she feels her low-grade migraine turn into a blinding, mind-tearing pain. 'Bloody-fucking hell'. She thinks again, angrier than scared, even though she had been sure that if something like this ever happened again, she would be terrified. 'Two bloody surgeries, a fuck ton of exams and here we go again'. And here she is, again. Her warm-delicious coffee slips from her lax hands, she doubles over and vomits all her breakfast over her Nikes and the gray sidewalk. She vaguely hears someone screaming, it might be her. 'Maybe this is the one.' She shakes her head, sways in place, tries not to fall in the pool of vomit.

Her back hits a wall. 'Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke; Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke; Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke' She repeats to herself, again and again. Moves her toes and her fingers. Tries to see over the blurriness of her eyes and the world that only gets darker. 'Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke; Emilia Isobel... What's it again? Remember, remember...' someone shakes her shoulder, there are loud voices, she doesn't understand them. 'Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke; I played, Sarah Connor; Qi'ra; Kate; Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of her name, the Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons, Rightful Queen of the Seven...' Emilia gets sick again, all over her clothes. The pressure inside her head feels worse than anything has ever felt. Worse than the two times before. 'Why?' She asks herself. If she must die, why must it be like this? There's so much pain; she heaves, even as her stomach is empty. 'Why?' she asks herself, God, the universe.

At last, it all goes dark.

* * *

She thought she wouldn't wake up anymore, but she does, a blinding light on her eyes. Her hand immediately goes to her head, but it feels fine, normal. There's no pain. It takes her a moment to register that she's naked. Another to realize the soft, silky material under her is a bed. She sighs deeply and realizes that none of this feels like a hospital; it's silent, all she smells is a vaguely pine scent... Incense, maybe. She blinks her eyes open and stares at a non-descript ceiling. She turns her head, studies the open room, minimalist with the bed and a dresser, everything in tones of beige and brown. It feels wrong.

The bed suddenly moves. Emilia turns her head, finding another face. There's a person beside her. Someone with long, pale-white hair, eyes that blink open, sleepy, the weirdest, most alien shade to them. Purple. Emilia stares, frozen in place.

Daenerys blinks back, before it registers to her as well that there's a stranger in her bed.

Emilia never thought of herself as this type of person. But she turns out to be.

She screams.

"Torgo Nudho!" Daenerys yells as well, but it's unnecessary. A door opens and in steps a tall, dark-skinned man. Emilia stops screaming at once when she sees him and scrambles to gather the silky sheets around her body.

"Jacob?" She asks. The man, Grey Worm, stops for a moment, staring at her face. He turns to Daenerys, who is now standing beside the bed, covered by a flowy night robe.

"How did you get here? Who are you?" She asks Emilia, who just stares back at her, dumbfounded. Looking at Daenerys feels like looking in a mirror; one with natural voluminous white-silver hair, flawless skin, and purple eyes. But still.

"I'm Emilia. Hi." She answers at last. "And you are Daenerys..?" The other doesn't respond. Emilia turns to the man, who has been joined by another unsullied guard. "And you are Grey Worm."

Everybody is still for a moment. Emilia looks down at the bed, trying to understand what's happening.

"Bloody hell. I must be dead."

"You are not, but I assure you soon will be if you don't explain how you got through my guards and was sleeping in my bed! Naked!" Daenerys exclaims, seemingly as unsure of the situation as Emilia is, but reacting only as she knows best. With anger.

"You would never believe me if I told you. Not ever." Emilia tries, her eyebrows scrunching in worry. "Please don't burn me alive." She lets escape, and immediately regrets it, when it seems only to incense the Queen further.

"Red Flea, fetch some clothes for my guest." The other guard leaves to follow her order at once. "Grey Worm, as soon as she's dressed, take her to a cell."

"Wait, wait! I don't mean to hurt you. It's just a fantastical story, I definitely wouldn't believe it if it were the opposite. But I will tell you."

Daenerys looks at her, expression a mask of emotionlessness.

"I'm sure you have an explanation, I simply have no time to hear it now. Later, you will have a chance to speak with me. As I'm unharmed and you clearly came... With no weapons, I shall hear you."

"Thank you." Emilia says. She clutches her sheets, expression lost. That's, until Missandei steps in the room, looking exactly like Emilia's dear friend Nathalie. Something comes to her mind.

"Where are we?" She asks Daenerys, who looks confused by the question.

"Meereen. You don't know which city you're in?"

"When will you be sailing to Westeros?" Emilia asks next, anxiety manifesting.

Daenerys shares a concerned glance with Grey Worm and Missandei, who is now one more person staring at Emilia as if she's a ghost. She might as well be, the way the darker woman glances between the Queen and her.

"The preparations would be obvious to anyone who lives in the city, Your Grace." Missandei breaks the silence.

"But soon, right?" Emilia insists. Her heart is racing, a feeling of urgency overtaking her. Maybe this is a fever dream. It probably is; a last hurrah from her dying brain. But if so, then what the hell. "Don't go. Talk to me. I know so much... Varys will betray you. Tyrion will mislead you. Jon Snow will always choose his family. You will be Queen of the Ashes, Dany."

"How do you know all of this?" Daenerys asks, befuddled.

"Let's say I've seen the future. Your future. When Jon Snow comes, help him. He's telling the truth, the army of the dead is real. But the Northerners are a bunch of tossers who will never forget that you're a Targaryen, and they hate Targaryens, though I suppose they have good reason to. Don't let Jon go north of the Wall, the Night King will kill Viserion when he stupidly gets himself stranded. Don't take the kind way to King's Landing, burn the Red Keep down and be done with it, before Cersei can get the Golden Company and Scorpions, which can kill dragons, and she will. Euron is a sadistic arsehole, but don't underestimate him, he will ally with Cersei. Jon Snow is your nephew; he's the son of Rhaegar with Lyanna Stark. Be aware of Sansa Stark, she will not trust you easily and she is a manipulative one. The North will kill you for their independence, no matter what you do to help them. Bran Stark is a creep and I'm still not sure if he isn't the villain of the story; he's the Three-Eyed Raven or something. Please don't execute the Tarly's, or anyone, using Dragonfire in Westeros. You can trust the people in this room, Yara Greyjoy, Ser Jorah, and Ser Davos is a reasonable man. Listen to Lady Olenna."

Emilia takes a deep breath. Her head starts pounding, but she continues before it becomes a full-blown pain.

"I wish you the best, Dany. You can be a good Queen. Just remember that you're not a dragon. You're a person, a woman. Let the North fend for itself after the war with the Night King and be Queen of the Six Kingdoms and of here. The freedmen need you."

"Who are you?" Daenerys asks again.

Emilia smiles. Her head is now truly hurting.

"I was you, in a different life. And you're probably a fever dream of mine. But it feels good to tell you all of this regardless. Keep your good people close to you, Dany. Follow your instincts. Be humane, but don't be a fool."

At that, the world goes dark again. Emilia is just glad the pain isn't as bad as before. This time, when she awakes, she is dressed in a paper-thin shift, lying on a hard, cold mattress and with the smell of antiseptic assaulting her nose.

She opens her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I might have been high when I had this idea. Let me know what you think.


End file.
